


Kiss Kiss, Don't Fuck Up

by My_Black_Crimson_Rose6



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crushes, First Kiss, Hinted at!first time, M/M, Teenagers, mentions of sexual themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4604826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6/pseuds/My_Black_Crimson_Rose6
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David Washington was adorable, adorably innocent and pure and Shaun York wanted nothing more than to throw the High School Junior over his shoulder and make sweet passionate love to him. But, alas poor yorick, that was not to be the case. </p><p>Instead, York would simply teach him how to kiss (and maybe get the blond to fall in love with him in the process).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss Kiss, Don't Fuck Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deltasyork](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltasyork/gifts).



> deltasyork was mentioning how she thought up a story for these two and have been wanting to write them but was too nervous to. Soooo~~ here I am gifting this to you with your prompt of "high school!au stuff with older classman York teaching bby Wash how to kiss because he's dumb and has a dumb crush and takes his opportunity"

David Washington was adorable, adorably innocent and _pure_ and Shaun York wanted nothing more than to throw the High School Junior over his shoulder and make sweet passionate love to him. But that wasn’t really the point of his inquiry, wasn’t really the point of any of _this_. Sure, he had a huge massively gay crush on the younger teen that he called friend. Sure, he would love nothing more than to sweep him off his feet and ask him to Prom at the end of the year.

Shaun wouldn’t though; he didn’t want to risk it. Didn’t want to risk ruining their friendship for his romantic and sexual feelings. Wash was more than that; he cared too much about the blond to just have a crush possibly ruin it all. So it was odd for him to just drop that question on him when he heard Wash admit to never kissing someone before—all that hard work throughout all the years York knew him, crushed on him for, only to get thrown out the window during a Thursday Lunch period when Connie started teasing him about finding a date to the next school dance, about _maybe_ having that first kiss of his.

“I can change that,” is all York said, sending the freckled boy a wink. His checks bursting into colour, reds and pinks as he choked on the food he was chewing and quickly had to excuse himself. York mentally scolding himself for his comment—how could he just _blurt that out_?!

He didn’t see much of Wash that day, not after that comment. Not until they were walking back to Wash’s house for their daily chill time. The blond would hardly look at him, and York would catch him deep in thought with his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t comment on it until Wash is unlocking his door and York follows him inside, kicking his shoes off by the door.

“I’m sorry, man. For my comment at lunch, I didn’t mean to make things awkward.” He scratched the back of his neck, toeing the tiles and silently hoped that he didn’t fuck it all up. As the silence drew longer the fear churned his stomach, his hand fell to his side and Shaun York felt like _this was it_. This was how his life would fall apart.

Wash reached out, touching the elder teen’s wrist hesitantly before falling back to his own side. “Would... I was thinking that—well, what you said.” He kept stopping, kept starting up again. Licking his lips Wash sucked in a breath, “I want you to teach me how to kiss. You... well, you have a lot more experience and I... I just want to learn how to kiss properly.”

He was moving without any conscious acknowledgement, cupping the blond’s face in his hands and whispering, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll teach you everything I know.” Pressing his lips to Wash’s and it was like a fire flaring in his lungs, consuming all the oxygen in his lungs and threatened to continue to carve open the rest of his being.

Whoever started that _seeing fireworks_ was full of shit. Full of shit. Kissing someone you actually _like_ can go in different ways; there was the breath of fresh air feeling, the consuming fire feeling, the swooning feeling, and maybe that electric charge feeling could be taken as _seeing fireworks_.

Wash’s eyes fluttered open, “wow,” he breathed. Licking his lips and pulling away from York. “I... well, I understand why people like kissing so much now,” he smiled, chuckling nervously as he glanced over his shoulder towards the stairs leading up to his room.

“Why don’t we just chill out,” York suggested, pushing away the nerves and blush threatening to give away just how much he was enjoying this. How much he enjoyed kissing Wash. Wash nodded, gently taking York’s hand and shyly leading his best friend up to his room.

York knew it just as well as he knew his own, spending just about every day in the blue and grey room. Spread out on the teen’s bed playing co-op videogames with him until he’d leave to go have dinner with his family. It was a rule in the York household, they didn’t tend to care what he did as long as he ate dinner with them (or if he made plans to eat out he would inform them with many hours before hand).

This time though Wash merely plopped in a movie and returned to York’s side with a flush fanning out along his cheeks. Donnie Darko quickly started up and York couldn’t help but chuckle at his choice of movie—of _course_ Wash put in this. The damn hipster had love for all the more... ‘grungy’ or ‘goth kid’ stereotypical movie types. His self filled with Nightmare before Christmas and Halloween, Edward Scissor Hands and... yeah, more horror movies and more nerd movies thrown in his large expansion of Disney movies.

He pulled the blond towards him and settled back into the pillows. Wash’s fingers smoothed out the folds in York’s tan shirt, fiddling with the creases over his stomach as they cuddled together. This was a little more familiar; Wash was a cuddler, always was and most likely always would be. During movie nights with their friends he’d curl against Maine and the football player would hug him to his side, securely tucking him under a well muscular arm. The cuddling that York and he would take was more... well, feet tangling together and at times Wash was known to nod off with his head tucked against the senior’s neck.

“Hey Shaun,” he whispered, pulling the brunet’s attention away from the movie to the blond in his arms. His gray-blue eyes staring up at him; “can I?” his gaze dropped to York’s lips and he nodded. Sucking in a breath when Wash leaned in and pressed his damp lips against York’s—he was licking them, he tended to play with his lips when he was nervous.

He pulled Washington in, holding him flush as he sunk down— _slid_ down into a recline with the blond leaning over him. Their lips separating only to press together again and again and again in quick and chassed pecks; the sounds of their lips meeting and parting made York’s heart pound wildly. York parted his lips and Wash mirrored him hesitantly, tongue not venturing behind his teeth so York chased it instead. Sliding his tongue in past the rows of teeth, pressing against his and coaxing his tongue to _move—_ to play, to mingle, to test the waters and enjoy the experience.

He hated the types of kisses where one would just stuff their tongue as far into the other’s mouth as possible. You couldn’t do anything more than just sit there, that damn tongue violating you until you could push them away. He was just happy that Wash wasn’t like that; happy that the blond was following _his_ lead rather that assuming.

Wash’s hands weren’t idle; sliding up York’s chest to his neck then over his shoulders before sliding back down. He was unsure where he should touch; where they should stay or where they should travel to—York didn’t care, didn’t care as he cupped the back of the younger teen’s neck and grabbed the belt around Wash’s waist. This was everything he dreamed about, everything he hoped when kissing Washington.

He’d teach him anything and everything; he’d have sex with him if he asked—York was _his_ , and Wash didn’t even know the power he had over him. The power behind the soft moans that started to escape, or how Wash’s hips started to grind against the bed as he no doubt started to feel a little trapped in those tight jeans of his.

 “You’re doing so good,” York whispered against his lips, rolling them over and settling between Wash’s legs. “You’re a natural,” he grinned, peppering his lips with pecks. He spread out on top of him, diving back into kissing Washington—back into the feeling of his fingers slipping under York’s shirt, how their crotches ground together, how he felt and how he tasted.

\------

 **SHAUN YORK’S BEDROOM:** MAY 8TH SATURDAY, 1:03AM

\------

It’s been two months. Two beautiful months of teaching Wash how to kiss, how touch and explore his _male_ partner. How to hold his cock and stroke him—how to lick the head of his partner’s cock and tease the slit. He taught him how it felt to have fingers inside his anus, stretching him open—taught him what it felt like to have a dick up the ass too... and a tongue.

York did anything and everything David Washington wanted him to do, taught him everything he wanted to know.

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Davie,” York whispered, heart clenching and thumping in his throat as his hand traced patterns up and down Wash’s naked back. “I—I can’t lie, D, I _like_ you. The only reason why I did this to begin with was because I have this huge massively gay crush on you.”

Wash hummed, fingers tracing over the stubble growing along York’s jaw. “I kinda assumed we were dating actually... told Maine and Connie we were just not comfortable making it public yet is all... I. Well, I kinda thought you already knew though.”

He was open; voice lethargic after sex, after the _thorough sexing_ they just had. His body like putty, moulding to York’s chest, to his side with his nose buried right under his jaw.

York swallowed, “Whe—when did _that_ get decided?” His voice caught and he cleared it, cleared it again at the end when he heart jumped up into his throat again when Wash laughed.

“Like two days after you started teaching me how to kiss.”


End file.
